


shelter as we go (and promise me this)

by lookoutlovers



Series: minute par minute [2]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Prompt Fill, eliott as lucas’ personal blanket, elu doing mundane but soft stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-27 18:55:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19796989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookoutlovers/pseuds/lookoutlovers
Summary: for the prompts: “i need a place to stay,” and “i’ll keep you warm.”





	shelter as we go (and promise me this)

**Author's Note:**

> for the anon who asked for numbers 63 & 65 from [this prompt list](https://look-out-lovers.tumblr.com/post/186265790247/angstfluff-prompt-list-mvps) hope u enjoy <3
> 
> title is from promise by ben howard

The common room is strangely vacant at this hour of the morning. The sun that spills in through the tall glass windows blinds Lucas slightly as he strides inside, perhaps, for a Monday morning, with an enthusiasm that’s bewildering to most others.

Eliott is sitting with his back to the entrance, head craned over a stack of books and papers. Lucas skips up to him, sweetly, then wraps both arms around his neck from behind. There is a bunch of flowers in his hand, a collection of pretty and colourful ones that he had picked from random gardens on his route to school.

Eliott looks away from the homework he had been working on, tilting his neck back and smiling when he sees Lucas lurking above him.

He laughs lightly, then says, “hey.”

“Hi, baby,” Lucas gushes, moving to sit in the empty child next to Eliott and smiling, wide and obnoxious. He holds out the flowers. “I got you flowers.”

The way Eliott’s eyes light up shouldn’t be possible on this one subsidiary planet that they just so happen to exist on, Lucas thinks, dumbfoundedly. It’s something that should be reserved for galaxies afar. It’s a nebulous, otherworldly kind of glow that even stars would be envious of. Coruscating like the sun.

”Thank you, they're very pretty.” Eliott accepts them happily, studying the blend of pinks and yellows and purples that paint the petals with wonder. (Lucas had made sure to pick only the most beautiful and delicate ones, you see, because someone as charming and as colourful as Eliott deserves nothing short of the best kind of loveliness in his life.)

“Just like you,” Lucas grins, “and I love this sweater on you.” He tugs at Eliott’s sleeve. “You look beautiful today,” he says, and then, without a breath, “how has your morning been?”

He jumps from compliment to question before Eliott even has the breath required to form a response. It’s his nerves talking, mostly. See, Lucas gets an awful case of word vomit when he’s nervous, or when he’s about to ignominiously ask for a favour — because he really takes pride in the fact that he isn’t the scrounging type, still struggles a little to ask for help when he needs it. He maybe has _too much_ pride in that sense. It’s a work in progress.

Eliott narrows his eyes. A wary smile plays at his lips. He asks, “Why are you being weird?” leaning forward a little, tilting his head back slightly and watching Lucas through his eyelashes, “what do you want?”

Lucas puts a hand to his chest, appalled, _teasing_ , “ _What_? I need a _reason_ to be nice to my wonderful boyfriend, now, do I?”

Eliott raises his eyebrows, dubious, but says nothing. He silently places the flowers onto the table and returns to the essay he had been writing before Lucas interrupted him. Lucas is only briefly offended that Eliott can see so clearly through his facade, mostly impressed. Irritation is a thing, though, because now Eliott is finding a lot more interest in his philosophy essay than in Lucas — which is absurd. And Lucas can never get enough attention when it comes to this boy, clearly.

“ _Does historical objectivity presuppose an impartial historian?_ ” Lucas reads the title of Eliott’s page in an obnoxiously theatrical tone, before sighing dramatically. “ _Deep_.”

Eliott flicks him on the nose with his pen, but doesn’t look up, “Hush, you.”

Lucas sighs, resting his chin on the palm of his hand, burning his best sad eyes into the side of Eliott’s head. Eliott must feel his gaze. A few moments later he’s turning to look at Lucas, finally, who throws in a pout for good measure. Eliott rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless, before sighing and abandoning his pen, turning in his chair to scoot closer to Lucas.

Lucas hums happily, now with Eliott’s undivided attention. He’s able to get a proper look at Eliott’s face now rather than just the teaser of his side profile, and it takes his breath away. Like it does every time, like it did the first time he laid eyes on him, like it has every other time after that.

Eliott has this intoxicating beauty that surrounds him, see, and it works a bit like a drug. It warms Lucas from the inside and out, gets all into his veins until he’s useless without it. But it’s not just a physical attraction, _it’s just Eliott._ He’s just beautiful that way, in every way. Like in how he cares so gravely about the most infinitesimal things. An insect can never die, it’s to be captured in a jar and set free into the dew of grass. He’ll tear up at those panda adoption advertisements, giggle at dumb internet memes, spend hours cramped over a sketchbook trying to perfect the intricate details of a cartoon character. He’ll notice a change in Lucas’ mood almost instantly.

He’s the home to one of the most pure and loving hearts Lucas has ever known, and that’s what is truly beautiful about Eliott. The fact that he cares. He loves with no limits; all or nothing.

Eliott is so captivating sometimes Lucas feels like he can’t breathe.

“What are you doing later?” Eliott asks while stealing Lucas’ hand and lacing their fingers together. The touch is solid against Lucas’ palm, warm, comforting.

Lucas hums, squeezing Eliott’s hand. “Well Mika has a _hot date_ so we’ve all been kicked out for the night.” He scrunches his nose, still very much sceptical of that hook-up app Mika is so obsessed with.“That’s too bad,” Eliott mumbles, interchangeably linking and unlinking their fingers, his own gaze focused on the movement like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

Lucas hums again, eyeing Eliott’s downcast face, thinks maybe it’s easier that way. “Yeah, so basically—” he hesitates briefly, letting out a small breath, “—I need a place to stay tonight.”

Eliott’s chuckle is abrupt. He looks up at Lucas with an amused smile. “Oh, so you _did_ want something?” he taunts.

Lucas huffs. “You know what, never mind. I’ll go ask Yann.” He pretends to stand up, but he doesn’t untangle his hand from Eliott’s, which only adds to the fact that he isn’t actually annoyed. Eliott can probably sense as such.

“No! Hey!” he whines, pulling Lucas back down onto the chair by his hand, “I’m kidding, baby. Of course you can stay at mine.”

Lucas purses his lips. “Your parents won’t mind?”

It’s sort of been a reoccurring issue for them, you see, when it comes to spending the night together. Eliott’s parents are home more often than not, so usually they’ll just go to Lucas’ flat. Which is fine, it _works_. That is until Mika decides to impulsively kick them out for the night.

“Don’t worry, I’ll sneak you in through my window,” Eliott decides happily. Mischievous like it’s the most genius plan he has ever come up with. “Like in the _movies_.”

Lucas looks at him incredulously. “You live on the third floor of an apartment block,” he says, “I think not.”

“Lucas,” Eliott says seriously, cupping Lucas’ face with both hands, “I’m sneaking you in through my bedroom window tonight even if it kills me.”

“ _No_.”

Eliott pouts. “But it’s so romantic!”

“Me breaking my legs is not romantic,” Lucas rolls his eyes, firmly standing his ground, “It’s not going to happen.”

Eliott only smiles, pressing a soft kiss to Lucas’ lips, and another to his nose. It causes Lucas to let out the small laugh he had been attempting to suppress in order to stress his solemnity.

“It’s not!” he defends again when Eliott throws him a pointed look, like he isn’t believing a single word that’s coming out of Lucas’ mouth.

“Whatever you say.”  
  


*

Lucas grumbles when he falls ungracefully onto the floor of Eliott’s bedroom. His feet had gotten tangled in the curtains during the process of climbing in through the window and the window sill was a lot less spacious than he had first anticipated. It causes a loud thump to echo throughout the room.

“ _God_ , could you have done that any louder?” Eliott looks down at him teasingly, but holds out a hand to help him up.

Lucas accepts it, huffing petulantly, “Well, maybe if you would’ve let me use your front door instead of forcing me to go all _Spiderman_ up your building we could have avoided that.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t want to. Plus, all you did was climb up a fire escape, those are made for climbing on,” Eliott retorts back. Lucas only narrows his eyes. It had felt pretty thrilling, actually.

He wouldn’t give Eliott the satisfaction of knowing as such, though.

Although, Lucas can’t pretend to be annoyed for too long, because then Eliott is looking at him with the softest smile, and they’re standing close, and Eliott is doing that thing where he cranes his neck down to make up for their height difference — so that they’re perfectly eye level, so that their foreheads rest together in the most perfect way, effortlessly.

Everything with Eliott seems to come effortlessly. Loving him is like a second nature, a sixth sense, it’s characterised within his blood to love Eliott. It’s a bit like an entry into his very own wonderland where the sky is always unclouded, the sun always vivid and the air always clean.

Eliott cups his face, it’s where his hands seem to find themselves almost always when they’re this close, like they inherently belong there. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says softly, his breath ghosting over Lucas’ face.

“Yeah?” Lucas murmurs, allowing his eyes to flutter shut when Eliott separates their foreheads by only a milometer, then aligns them together again at a different angle, nudging him like a needy kitten.

“Mhm,” he hums in confirmation, “I love sleeping next to you.”

Lucas reaches out to grasp onto the excess material of Eliott’s t-shirt, using it as a vice to tug him closer. He can’t see Eliott’s face, with his eyes still being closed the way that they are, but he can _feel_ and _hear_ the small smile playing at his lips as he speaks, the familiar fond tone lacing his words.

He lets Eliott kiss him, then, toe curling and soft. Eliott’s lips melt into Lucas’ own and it’s warm, so impossibly warm that Lucas feels faint with it. He doesn’t settle for just one, though, as like always, Eliott pulls away first and Lucas rises onto his tiptoes and reels him back in, then when Lucas pulls away Eliott holds his face in place and pecks him one, two, three more times. They kiss until their lips are swollen and their giggles become too much to fight past.

It’s only when Eliott disconnects himself and goes to rid himself of his jeans that Lucas notices the bitter chill in the room.

“Why’s it so damn cold in here?” he voices, looking around the room as if he might find the answer within Eliott’s walls or in his closet.

Eliott bites down onto his bottom lip, a light chuckle slipping into the room. “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you earlier. One of the pipes burst outside, it froze up or something, so — uh, we have no heating for a few days.”

Lucas folds his arms over his chest. “No heating,” he repeats the words, trying to fathom them. Because no heating in the middle of a spurt of cold weather is just great, truly. It’s not like Lucas is abnormally susceptible to colds or anything.

“Well don’t look so worried!” Eliott peels back his duvet, looking over at Lucas from the opposite side of the bed.“It’s not _that_ cold, we can make it cosy, look.”

Lucas watches with a skeptical look as Eliott crouches down and pulls out an abundance of blankets from underneath his bed, dropping them in a pile onto the mattress. “And you can borrow my hoodie,” he smiles knowingly, before adding, “If you want.”

Lucas’ heart melts. He aches, he wants, he _caves_.

“ _Fine_.”

One they’re lying down — perfectly arranged beneath the bundle of blankets, their limbs tangled together infinitely with no clear beginning or end — Lucas lets his head fall onto Eliott’s chest. The hood of the borrowed hoodie is pulled over his head, the drawstrings tugged together tightly. Because he’s dramatic and cold, and he loves how it makes Eliott’s familiar smell get everywhere, sweet-smelling and a little smokey, comforting.

Eliott is running his fingers through the hair that has fallen onto Lucas’ forehead, it’s calming. And it isn’t even that late, just shy of ten, but Lucas feels sleep tiptoe into the edges of him mind along with the motion.

Eliott mumbles something, it’s so quiet Lucas misses it entirely.

“Hm?” Lucas hums in question, tilting his head up to meet Eliott’s gaze, who raises his eyebrows and repeats himself more distinctly this time.

“I said, do you use conditioner? Your hair is really soft.”

A breathy laugh falls from Lucas’ lips. “I don’t give out my grooming tips, sorry,” he says in a serious tone, “strictly classified.”

“Well, okay then. Next time I shower at your place I’m checking,” Eliott teases back. 

Lucas pinches the jut of his hip. “Presumptuous of you.”

Eliott grips Lucas by the hips and manhandles him until he’s hovering above him, pushing Lucas’ back flush against the mattress. The abruptness of it takes Lucas by surprise, makes him feel breathless. An exhale gets caught in the back of his throat along with any coherent thoughts.

“You’re just grumpy because you’re cold,” Eliott mumbles, his elbows resting on either side of Lucas’ face. And the room is dark, but the faint shadows of the world powering on beyond Eliott’s bedroom window catch Lucas’ eye every so often as they dance across the walls, grey and diffused by the dim light.

The thickness of the night doesn’t really take away from the way Eliott is looking down at him, though, how his eyelashes cast dark reflections onto his cheeks, how the curve of his nose dips imperfectly, a little crooked yet so perfect in Lucas’ eyes, how his lips tilt upwards in the most tender of smiles.

“I’m not,” Lucas whispers weakly in defence.

“You’re not grumpy or you’re not cold?” Eliott challenges, moving his face lower, _closer_.

Lucas drags out a sigh, one that says _both, probably._

Eliott gets it. He smiles sympathetically, kissing Lucas just once, softly. “Don’t worry, my love,” he mumbles into Lucas’ lips, languidly, _lovingly._ “I’ll keep you warm.”

Lucas hums happily into the kiss. It’s warm, Eliott is warm. He’s warm and suddenly it burns everywhere, right here Eliott’s fingertips press into the exposed skin of his hips where his hoodie has ridden up, where their legs slot together under the covers, mostly where his lips drag against Lucas’ lips. A flame erupts, spreads like a forest fire, chaotic and terminal.

“I’ll always keep you warm,” Eliott whispers once they’ve separated, eyes an alluring grey-green. “I promise.”

Lucas cups Eliott’s face, light fingertips running across his cheeks, feeling the soft skin there. “I love you,” he says.

He’ll never get tired of saying those words, of how they make him feel, how they cause Eliott to beam down at him with a smile that’s this enthralling.

”I love you too,” he whispers right back, setting embers alight within Lucas’ heart. He’s heard Eliott say it countless times, now, but it still manages to take his breath away. “Now roll over so I can spoon you,” Eliott orders with a teasing glint in his eyes.

Lucas huffs out a laugh, wriggling from underneath Eliott’s body and allowing him to curve around his back, holding him close.

It doesn’t take long for the temperature in Lucas’ veins to rise, cold replaced with a burning, scorching hot — the gentle warmth of Eliott curled around him entirely. Hot breaths fan across the nape of his neck, comforting arms circle around his waist. Their legs tangle underneath the duvet.

Slowly, Lucas feels his eyes begin to drift, the solid weight of Eliott pressed into him pulling him closer and closer to sleep. But then — 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hears Eliott curse after a long while. Lucas blinks out of the haze he had fallen into, looking over his shoulder sleepily. “We left the window open.”

Lucas elbows him in the stomach lightly, “You’re an idiot,” he mumbles.

Eliott’s laugh, when it comes — bright and pretty and effortless — is dazzling.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading, i hope you enjoyed!! let me know what u thought <3 and come find me on tumblr [@lumierelovers](https://lumierelovers.tumblr.com/)


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